


play, boy

by grossly



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, post spring high preliminaries, swearing but only a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 00:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7244743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grossly/pseuds/grossly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Johzenji team walks into their gymnasium, what catches Kenji’s attention is a shock of blond and the glint of silver in a smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	play, boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toffeepotatoes (inberin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inberin/gifts).



> omg so. hihi phoe happy birthday!! this is for you  
> also idk if you noticed i deactivated twitter but dw!! its just until i finish hqhols, to help me keep focused  
> idk what you're in indo for but hope you have a happy birthday there!! eat lots of good food and receive lots of presents, and come back healthy and happy. love you!! <3

The first time Kenji meets him – properly – is during a practice match Coach Oiwake organises.

“It’ll be fun,” Coach Oiwake had said, with – was that a smirk on his lips?

Kenji, at the time, hadn’t taken note of the sinister smile on his coach’s face. Instead, he was trying to discreetly communicate to Koganegawa not to play with the darned _harmonia axyridis_ on his knuckle while Coach Oiwake was talking.

“I’m so sorry, Futakuchi-senpai!” Koganegawa yells after, face scrunched up and hands stiff by his side. “I won’t do that again! I will try my best to be a good setter for everyone!”

He pauses.

“But that ladybug was really cute, though, Futakuchi-senpai!” His face arranges itself into an expression of awe, and his arms rise up beside his chest. His palms are clenched into big fists, hovering near his chin. “Did you see its spots, Futakuchi-senpai! They were so cute!”

If Kenji wants to be really, _really_ honest with himself, he agrees. He’d never seen one in its _spectabilis_ form before and it was absolutely _lovely_.

(And, in trying to get Koganegawa to listen, he had been utterly distracted.)

But he’s a team captain now. Has been for the past few months. He’s still not entirely used to it – one would think that would be more than enough time to adapt – but he has responsibilities. He’s also been putting off getting that tie and shirt he told himself he would get for Moniwa. He should get it soon.

Aone jabs him in the side, hard. Onagawa’s wheezing over his mop in the background. Kenji’s eye twitches.

“Ow!” Kenji says. “Rude. I know you know what I’m thinking. I _know_.”

“Johzenji,” Aone says, when they’ve packed and locked up and the sky is dark and they’re making their way home.

Kenji shivers, and buries his face deeper into his muffler. He thinks about the last time he heard that name. During the Interhigh of his first year, when they played each other in the first round. Datekou won. “Simplicity and valour, huh?”

Aone shrugs. There is an almost imperceptible hint of objection on his face. Through the veils of dark and cold and post-practice weariness, Kenji doesn’t notice.

Kenji yawns. “Oh, we’re at the station. They shouldn’t be much of a problem. See you tomorrow, Aone.”

Aone nods, slight and short, but never curt. They part.

-

When the Johzenji team walks into their gymnasium, what catches Kenji’s attention is a shock of blond and the glint of silver in a smile.

They yell their greetings. It’s scattered and hearty and a little too loud. Datekou reciprocates, an orderly boom. The coaches shake hands and exchange pleasantries. A light-haired girl – Johzenji’s manager, presumably – starts their warmups. Her voice is slightly shaky, but she exudes a sort of confidence and dignity.

He finds his gaze drawn towards the yellow hair. He knows he’s not the only one: Onagawa and Obara are whispering like gossipy old ladies – “Look at those piercings!” “You think he’s a delinquent?” “You’re a delinquent.” “Fuck off.” “Wicked, though.”

As Johzenji finishes up, Kenji’s eyes naturally trace the movements of his abdomen as he hip-checks a teammate who looks like he’s having a bad hair day. They trade whispers and blondie whips his head back and howls with laughter. They part with a fist bump, and he moves on. Headlocks, noogies, back slaps – even jumping onto a poor soul’s back. (They topple onto the floor in a crumpled heap. Piercings receives an earful from their manager.)

Every single last one of them. Even the bored-looking benchwarmer who looks as if this is the last place he wants to be.

Kenji feels Aone looking at him, feels the unasked question in the air. He ignores it.

The coaches are done with their talk, and the teams gather. Kenji sneaks a glance at the Johzenji circle. Undercut is speaking.

“Have fun,” Coach Oiwake says. “Just play as you normally do. It’s a practice match, so feel free to try out new things. Just nothing too extreme.” A deliberate glance at Koganegawa. Kenji almost snorts. The coach dismisses them, and the trail off to take their positions. Johzenji finishes up as well, and the captains shake hands under the net.

Kenji stares down at Number One, cocks his head a little. “Flashy,” he remarks.

Flashy looks up. He smirks, and raises an eyebrow. “Nice fringe,” he says, and it decidedly feels like a taunt. How dare.

“We look forward to beating your ass,” Kenji says pleasantly, gripping Tongue’s hand too tight. He immediately retaliates, and Kenji thinks his hand might bruise.

“Let’s have fun,” Captain says sunnily. To say Kenji’s ticked off may be an understatement. _Have fun._ Is this their team mantra, or what? “I’m Terushima. Nice to meet cha. Good luck!”

“That guy gets on my nerves,” Futakuchi tells Aone, when they’re back in their places. He crouches low. Terushima is serving.

He’s starting far behind the baseline. He throws the ball into the air, takes a few strides forward, and – swings his right arm forward, using it to hit the falling ball. The ball whizzes past Kenji and Aone. Sakunami makes a dive, but it ricochets off his arm and goes out of bounds. “Holy shit, it worked!”

“Mind your language, Terushima-senpai!” the manager shouts from the sidelines. Kenji straightens up slowly. The Johzenji team is full of excited yells and boisterous laughter.

“Woah! What kind of serve was that?” Koganegawa shouts, obviously flustered.

“T-that was a roundhouse serve, right?” Sakunami says, awed. “It was popular around the eighties… though no one really uses it recently.”

Kenji feels Aone’s hand on his shoulder, a reassuring presence amongst the loud. He closes his eyes, and exhales a long, slow breath. He nods, and Aone gives him a last pat before retracting his hand. Kenji turns around to face the team – his team.

“All right,” he says, “this may be a practice match, but we still want to win, right?”

He receives a collective chorus of yeses, a particularly enthusiastic one from Koganegawa, and a firm nod from Aone.

“So,” he continues, “we have to take them seriously. Give it our all. Don’t give them any chances.”

He looks around at the circle of faces. Each one of them stare resolutely back at him, and for this he is grateful. He takes a deep breath. “Datekou!”

“Fight!” The sincere sound – they are one team; one sound – resonates in Kenji’s heart.

-

For their best efforts, they lose. Kenji tries to console himself with _at least it was just a practice match_ , but if he really, really wants to be honest with himself –

“Hey, captain!” Kenji heaves a sigh of something he doesn’t know – or perhaps, doesn’t want to know. “Good game.”

“Thanks,” he says, curt. Terushima barrels in close to get to the vending machine. He’s not being rough, but the heat radiating from his sticky skin renders Kenji uncomfortable. He steps away, keeping his distance.

“You guys played a good game too,” Kenji says begrudgingly. “We never saw you coming.”

Terushima barks out a laugh, but it’s not unpleasant to the ears. “Half the time we don’t see ourselves coming, either!” he says, like he’s proud of it. “We just _do_.”

“That must be really ineffective in official matches,” Kenji deadpans. Terushima chuckles, and swings his arm around Kenji’s shoulder. He doesn’t move away this time.

“We’re working on that,” he admits, and has the audacity to sound a little sheepish. “Runa’s doing a dang good job keeping us in check, better than expected. But we don’t let it cramp our style, yanno?”

“Hm,” Kenji says, and Terushima attempts to knead his shoulder. It feels kind of nice.

“You gotta loosen up, Futakuchi,” Terushima says, with a final pat and a dazzling beam, and walks off. Kenji doesn’t ask how he knows his name.

-

“Hey, my phone –” Something hard knocks into Kenji’s head with a thud, and clatters onto the floor. Kenji whips his head around.

“If it’s broken I’ll have you pay for the repairs!” he yells.

Terushima all but grins, and sticks out his tongue. “It’s a good thing you have my number, then!” he hollers, waving furiously. “See you!”

Kenji scoffs as he watches Terushima hop up the steps to the bus. Aone is looking at him like he knows what he’s thinking and, face it, he probably does, so Kenji ignores him.

Later that evening, when he checks his phone on his way back home with Aone, he finds the contact “Terushima Yuuji” embellished with copious amounts of heart and sparkle emojis. His history tells him that he’s sent a message to this contact, containing a single word “vollEybAll”. Kenji can’t help but snort.

Kenji tucks his phone back into his blazer pocket. If he wants to be honest with himself, he’s sort of looking forward to this. But for now, he’ll wait for Terushima to make the first move.

-

“Hey,” a familiar voice greets Kenji, and its owner settles down into the empty seat beside him. “Didn’t know you were a fan of Vegalta Sendai.”

“I’m not,” Kenji says, folding his arms over his chest. “I was just bored.”

“Bored?” Terushima lets out a sharp, loud laugh. He leans back into the plastic seat, and places his feet on the back of the empty seat in front of him. “Shouldn’t you be, well, shaping up your brand new Iron Wall right now, Mr Serious Captain?”

“You’re not partying with your team either, playboy,” Kenji retorts.

“Hey!” Terushima looks affronted. It amuses Kenji. “I’m an honourable man.”

“I didn’t mean that in only one way,” Kenji says with an impervious shrug. Terushima frowns, and makes a little “tch!” sound with his teeth.

“But for real, Futakuchi,” Terushima says earnestly, “you should loosen up. Being captain doesn’t mean you need to be serious and solemn all the time.”

Kenji snorts. “Are you actually trying to dispense life advice onto me right now?”

“No!” Terushima jolts up straight, looking flustered. “It’s just – I saw one of your matches during the Interhigh, and – you just look – feel! – so different right now. You were like, this really sarcastic dude with really witty comebacks, and it was really cool.”

“Aw, did you have a crush on me?” Kenji cackles, ruffling Terushima’s hair roughly, mussing up the gelled mess. “Ew, now my hand stinks of Gatsby.”

“No!” Terushima shrieks. His face is a full blown burgundy. He curls up into himself, like a little hedgehog. “I did not!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kenji says through chuckles, resting a hand on Terushima’s nape and patting it gently. “I actually thought your piercings were hot, too. Like, oh my god.”

“No, stop,” Terushima whines softly, his voice muffled. “They’re _cool_.”

“I thought you were a delinquent, with that blond hair and that undercut. And of course, the piercings,” Kenji continues, “but guess what? You’re just a really huge dork. Might even be _adorable_ , sometimes, if I squint a bit.”

“Nooo,” Terushima moans. “Fuck me.”

Kenji smirks. Terushima is asking for it. His hand drops to Terushima’s lower back, and moves in slow circles, kneading and pushing as it goes. He makes sure his voice drops an octave at least. “ _Gladly_.”

This makes Terushima’s head snap up. He stares at Kenji, looking like he’s just about ready to combust. Kenji laughs, and blows him a raspberry.

“Oh my god,” Terushima stands up, covering his face. “I think I need to, like, go.”

Kenji startles when Terushima actually makes to start walking away. He makes a grab for Terushima’s arm. “Wait!”

Terushima turns his head around slightly, peeking at Kenji from between his fingers. _Adorable_.

Kenji arranges his best, most persuasive good boy smile on his face. “Stay? I’ll treat you to something from the hot dog stand later.”

Terushima goes through a moment of hesitation. He sighs, then slowly removes his hand from his face. “Okay.”

Kenji feels his face light up immediately as he guides Terushima back into the seat beside him.

-

“Thank you,” Kenji says, pocketing his change. He heads outside the little store and sits down on a bench, sucking at his popsicle contemplatively.

“Futakuchi!” Kenji hears his name before he sees Terushima running over towards him. He’s only wearing a tank top and a hoodie, and jogger pants, which is both ridiculous – for Kenji’s heart – and ridiculously reckless. His hair also isn’t gelled.

“What are you doing here,” Kenji deadpans, chasing a stray melted drop to his hand. He sees Terushima follow the movement.

“You said you were getting a popsicle so I got a craving too!” Terushima says enthusiastically.

“It’s in the middle of winter. You don’t get cravings for popsicles just because I said so.”

“Well, I do! So there,” Terushima says, and strides into the store. Kenji hears Terushima ask for a popsicle in that loud, playful drawl, hears him receive the same lecture he’d received himself when he asked for a Garigari-kun. Something along the lines of “you young men shouldn’t be eating popsicles in winter!” Kenji’s very good at spacing out, and then pretending he didn’t after.

Terushima emerges from the store with a Garigari-kun popsicle in his hand, looking rather worse for wear. Kenji snickers. He plops down next to Kenji and starts chomping on his popsicle.

“Ew,” Kenji says in between gargled laughs. “How can you eat a popsicle like that? That’s so unsexy.”

Terushima makes a face at him. “Oh, like you were doing just now?” He gives his half-bitten popsicle a slow, exaggerated lick. Kenji watches the silver ball’s journey up its ice blue body. “Suck my dick!”

Kenji smirks, and leans over into Terushima’s space. He places his hand over Terushima’s, the one holding the popsicle, and guides the top of the popsicle into his mouth, maintaining eye contact with Terushima all the while. He slurps, and then lets go, making a show of licking his lips and sticky hands afterwards.

Terushima’s face is flaming.

“God,” he says, ducking his head. He head-butts Kenji’s shoulder gently, and stays there. “God, you’re such a tease. Oh my god. Don’t do this to me. I’m a really hormonal teenager.”

Kenji laughs, and nuzzles Terushima’s hair softly. It smells good, like the milk shampoo his mum uses. Kenji inhales the scent.

“What are you doing,” Terushima mumbles.

“Your hair smells good,” Kenji whispers. The blond tresses are soft and silky. Kenji decides he likes this better than the gelled up mess Terushima usually sports. A lot better.

“Stupid,” Terushima says, hitting Kenji’s knee, then letting it rest on its smooth slope after. Kenji doesn’t push him away. He wonders if he will ever, now.

-

It’s not snowing, and the river isn’t frozen over, so Kenji supposes this should count as a win among losses, but he honestly doesn’t have it in him right now.

“What the fuck,” he says to no one in particular. He admires the scenery while he can. The sun is bathing the sky in a myriad of purples and reds and oranges and pinks as it sets. It’s cloudless, which is rather rare for a winter day.

“Futakuchi!” Terushima looks like he’s taken a shower in the sunset. It’s pretty. _He’s_ pretty. Kenji sighs.

“I lost my shoes in the river,” Terushima whines.

Kenji sighs again, and turns away. “I’m not going in the water. Why are you playing in the river in the first place? It’s so damn cold –”

He hears Terushima before he feels him, a fiery war cry heating up the winter frost. Then, a warm embrace, with a force that knocks all the breath out of him. Kenji‘s arms instinctively go to the legs wrapped around his waist. Terushima’s breath against his ear makes him shiver, not because of the cold.

“Carry me home, Futakuchi!” Terushima says. “My trusty steed! It’s too cold to walk barefooted!”

“And it’s not cold enough to warrant staying out of the river. Right,” Kenji huffs, adjusting Terushima’s position on his back. Terushima laughs as he bounces. “I should just drop you right now.”

“But you won’t,” Terushima mumbles, burying his face in the crook of Kenji’s neck. “I know you love me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Futakuchi says, wrinkling his nose. “I actually do love you. That’s so dumb of me.”

“Hey! –” the protest dies in Terushima’s throat. Kenji feels the grip around his neck tighten.

“Hey, you okay?” Kenji asks, a tinge of worry showing in his voice. “Don’t tell me you caught a cold.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Terushima says after a moment’s pause. “I’m okay.”

Kenji hums. The rest of their trek – or rather, Kenji’s trek – home is completed in comfortable silence, watching the watercolour sky fade into a glittering navy blue. Kenji doesn’t think himself a sentimental person, but this in this setting, with these circumstances, and these characters, he thinks –

– he’ll take it.

-

Of course, Terushima catches a cold.

“Hi,” Kenji says. Terushima’s parents aren’t home. Of course. Kenji thrusts a plastic bag of medicine and cold reliefs into his face. Terushima blinks, and takes it. He squints at Kenji.

“Didn’t you just text me a minute ago? How are you here so fast…?”

“I think,” Kenji says, pushing past Terushima into the house, “you dozed off. Goes to show how sick you are, you moron.”

“Oh,” Terushima says, surprised. He shuts the front door with a weak click and totters towards Kenji, sniffling. “I did, huh.”

Kenji makes his way into the kitchen, bustling around with the cabinets. “Have you eaten at all today?”

Terushima runs a hand through his hair sleepily. It’s floppy. It makes Kenji want to run his fingers through the locks as well. “Um… two biscuits?”

Kenji huffs. “Go up to your room and go to bed. I’ll be up later with water.”

“Okay,” Terushima says, snuffling as he goes. Kenji throws a box of tissues at him, which spectacularly hits his head. He bends down and picks it up, then continues his journey up the stairs without a word.

Kenji puts water in a pot, and switches on the stove. He busies himself with pouring a glass of warm water and rummaging through the cupboards for a thermometer, then getting more tissues just in case, and putting all these on a tray. When the water boils he plops in a packet of noodles, and heads up towards Terushima’s room.

“Where’s the medicine,” Kenji says as he nudges the door open with his foot. Terushima is sitting on the edge of his bed, playing a game on his phone. He points to the bedside table.

“Put the phone away,” Kenji instructs, setting the tray beside the medicine. He rummages through the bag, and holds out a packet to Terushima. “Two tablets. Take them.”

Terushima is silent all the while, through setting his phone down and taking his medicine and gulping down water and letting Kenji bundle him up in blankets. Kenji draws the curtains, turns off the lights, and settles down on the floor beside Terushima’s bed. “Go to sleep now.”

“Hey, Futakuchi,” Terushima says, after a long moment of quiet. “Are we, like – are we dating?”

Kenji blinks. “What?”

“I mean,” Terushima continues in a rush, “We hang out pretty often. And we’re really comfortable with touching each other. And you came, today, to take care of me, so like…”

“Oh,” Kenji says. “I guess we are, then.”

Terushima jolts up and blinks. “What? Wait, you like me?”

“Yeah, I do,” Kenji says, meeting Terushima’s bewildered gaze. “What, is that so surprising?”

This time, Kenji feels Terushima before he hears him, a warm embrace with a force that knocks all the breath out of him. Then, a fiery cry of joy, heating up the winter frost. Kenji‘s arms instinctively wrap around the torso on top of him. Terushima’s breath against his ear makes him shiver, not because of the cold.

“You piece of shit!” Terushima shouts. “I had no idea!”

“Ow,” Kenji says, wincing. “Not so loud.”

“I really like you,” Terushima says. “I really really really like you. A whole lot.”

“I really really really like you too,” Kenji says, unable to wipe the smile off his face, unable to keep it from seeping into his voice. “A whole lot.”

“Can I kiss you?” Terushima asks, mumbling into Kenji’s shoulder.

“Ew, no,” Kenji says, after a moment of consideration. “Don’t pass your cold on to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Omake:  
> “Hey, do I smell something burning?”  
> “… Oh, fuck.”
> 
> if you're phoe click [here](http://vocaroo.com/i/s0h8g2g99NTV)


End file.
